


Feel Like I'm Drowning

by lookingforthestars



Category: Scorpion (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, F/M, Post-Finale Madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-05-28 18:01:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforthestars/pseuds/lookingforthestars
Summary: He won't let it end like this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah sorry, I was going to update Heartlines first but this cut in front of the inspiration line. Since this is a case fic of sorts and case/action fics are always harder for me, don't expect fast updates. But, if you're willing to wait a bit, I'll do my best.

_We regret to inform you that we have not chosen to enlist Scorpion's services. After an extensive review of our needs, we have elected to go in a different direction. We were impressed with your proposal and hope to work with you at a future_

Walter snapped his laptop shut without reading the rest. He knew all about the "different direction," anyway. The consultant manager had been practically eating out of Paige's hand as Centipede left their interview. It made his stomach turn.

Seeing her woo clients, how easily she switched it on and off…sometimes he wondered if she'd been doing the same to him. Manipulating his attraction to her for her own survival.

That was harsh. Walter didn't like to think like that. He just didn't know which way was up lately. Facing the team…facing  _her_ …threw him into a tailspin every time. He played it off as best he could, but judging by Cabe's sympathetic expression, he wasn't doing a great job.

The genius blinked, struggling to regain control over his wandering thoughts. At the moment, he had bigger issues than—or rather, because of—his former liaison. They'd gotten the Forsythe job, and Wright was heavily in their favor. Scorpion 2.0 was still winning gigs, if not at the rate he was used to. He could keep it afloat for five months on his savings and the upcoming revenue, more if the majority of the undecided clients landed in his direction.

And they were still doing worthwhile work. Director Carson was making them hustle twice as hard for Homeland jobs now, to compensate for the pay bump, but when people's lives were on the line, even Carson wasn't so petty as to put off calling them.

But he was tired. Saving the world made up roughly three percent of his workload. The rest was security upgrade jobs, reaching out to past and potential clients, and hours and hours of paperwork. He didn't know how Paige hadn't gone postal filling out all those forms.

_And_  he was back to her again. While his mind was spinning in this particular loop, he supposed it didn't matter if he admitted that she made running Scorpion so much easier. Not just because she ran after jobs with dogged determination or forced her way through stacks of incident reports every night, but because at the end of a long day, when the weight of the world was on his shoulders, he went upstairs and she was there and everything beyond her bright smile just faded.

How strange that the last time it happened, he'd had no inkling he would never see it again.

He was back to the beginning. Even then, at least, he'd had a purpose. Creating a home for a group of misfit geniuses with nowhere else to go. Florence and Cabe would both be fine without Scorpion 2.0. This time, he would be the only one without a home.

Walter wasn't sure that was enough reason to keep it running anymore. Maybe holding on so desperately to this dream was preventing him from moving on to something better. Somewhere better. Did that place exist? He couldn't imagine that, but then again, his imagination had always been crap.

His phone buzzed, flashing Cabe's name, and he'd never been so grateful to be snapped out of his worthless musings. "Hey."

"Son." Walter sat up straighter, well aware that tone meant the call was serious. "I'll text you my location. Leave right now. We need you here."

"Job?"

He didn't miss the split-second of hesitation before Cabe answered. "Yes. Now get your ass in the car."

* * *

During the twelve-minute drive, Walter had swiped through hundreds of scenarios in his head. It was slightly odd that Cabe hadn't briefed him on the phone, but if he was busy coordinating with rescue crews, it made more sense to explain the details when Walter arrived and was able to assess the situation for himself.

Those hundreds of scenarios had included earthquakes, fires, collisions, wild animal attacks, chemical warfare and armed nuclear weapons, among other things.

They had not included his former and current teammates standing in front of a building that seemed perfectly secure.

_Son of a bitch._ Walter slammed the car door behind him, aiming his vitriol at Cabe, who was engaged in a traitorous, hushed conversation with Happy. "What is this? Some kind of intervention?" Sylvester and Toby were staring at him, but Walter deliberately ignored them. "What are they doing here? Were you lying when you said there was a job?"

Florence stepped in front of him, holding up her hands as a gesture for him to calm down. "It wasn't a lie. This is an emergency." A few people were watching his outburst and Walter suddenly became aware of how many evacuees were surrounding them. Nearly a hundred, if he was estimating correctly through his clouding emotions. "Centipede is here because they want to help. It was their job but…something went wrong."

"Centipede couldn't finish a job? How shocking," he bit out, his anger melting into dread at the discomfort on Florence's face. On everyone's face. "What?"

Cabe cleared his throat and gave him that look, that damn pitying look, and the bottom of Walter's stomach dropped out as he realized what it meant. More specifically,  _who_  it meant. "I didn't tell you earlier because I didn't want your head messed up while you were driving." He swore he heard the words moments before Cabe actually said them, because he couldn't seem to take in a breath past the sudden tightness in his chest. "Paige is in danger, kid. And we've got about twenty minutes before we lose her."


	2. Chapter 2

"Now that's out of the way, how about I give you a tour?"

Paige sighed internally, trying her best to keep her reaction hidden from him. Mr. Jourdan— _it's David, please, I insist_ —had already kept her in his office for nearly two hours, combing through every word in their contract with his lawyer and asking her far too many questions about her previous employment with Scorpion. She knew it would take time to build Centipede's reputation, independently, but the constant rehashing of her prior cases brought up too many uncomfortable memories. Describing her role in missions while delicately avoiding  _his_ name was exhausting.

_Well, that's what you get for dating your boss._

David was staring at her, and she realized belatedly that she hadn't answered. Paige was dying to relax at home with a glass of wine and a hot bath, wash away this long and awkward day, but she found herself nodding instead. Consulting on his top-secret aerospace project was a lucrative job. If she wanted the deal to stay intact, she had to take one for the team. "Lead the way."

He smiled, walking over to the wall and pressing one hand against the palm scanner as he entered a code into the keypad with the other, blocking her view with his body. Paige still found it amusing that people hid things from them, like Centipede couldn't crack his security while simultaneously playing an intense game of Trivial Pursuit. She refrained from saying so. She'd been around the geniuses long enough to know jokes like that didn't go over well.

The bookcase shifted a few feet to the side—god, wasn't that a cliché—revealing a solid metal door. He tugged it open, motioning for her to step through ahead of him. "Please."

Paige offered him a smile back, albeit a half-hearted one, and followed his direction. She heard the door click shut, and felt his eyes on her as she started to traverse the narrow hallway. He liked her. She could tell. This was only their third meeting to discuss the deal in person, but he'd been a perfect gentleman every time. He was relatively young for his position—thirty-seven, according to her research—and fairly attractive, with dark blond hair and clear blue eyes.

He hadn't made a move, yet. It was more likely he would wait until the job was completed. She wondered if she would feel differently then.

David was nice. Successful. Wealthy. And she missed being in a relationship. She missed holding hands, being looked at affectionately, being held at night. Being wanted.

But she knew from experience that simply doing and having all those things wasn't enough. Now that she understood how intense the feelings  _could_  be…finding another man that made her feel the same seemed borderline impossible.

_He found someone else. Why shouldn't you?_

Paige blinked, hoping David didn't pick up on how distracted she was while he launched into a story about the construction of the tunnel. Maybe, with time, she would be ready to move on with someone like him. Hopefully sooner rather than later. She was tired of feeling so hollow.

He repeated each step at the second door, assuring her that they were "almost there" as he went through another litany of security measures. She wished she'd made a polite excuse to leave before she became literally trapped in the situation. David finally slid open the door, and Paige had to admit that she was taken aback by what was on the other side.

"Sorry for the process, I know it's a pain," he said, placing a hand on her arm to help her up the small step. "But this collection is worth a lot. We have to protect it."

Paige wasn't sure she'd ever seen a larger collection of art outside of a museum. She knew the company maintained one—and that the CEO loaned the paintings out periodically for special exhibits—but she hadn't been expecting to see it with her own eyes. "It's beautiful."

"I know." He stepped just behind her, pointing to a painting of a church on a hilltop. "This is one of my favorites. 1908. Rudolf Koller."

 _That's impossible, because Koller died in 1905._ She glanced at him sideways, wondering if he was testing her knowledge, but his eager expression suggested that he was merely trying to impress her.  _At least when Walter spouted off facts, they were correct._

Paige pressed her lips together, chastising herself for her rudeness. At least he had an interest in art, something Walter still struggled to understand the purpose of.  _Stop thinking about Walter. He's not in the room right now._ "Lovely. What about this one?"

David chatted amiably about the artwork for several more minutes, walking her through the gallery. She tried to hide her yawn behind her hand, but he noticed, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I'm sure you have other things to do."

She shook her head. "No, please, this is wonderful. I was just up early this morning. Thank you, again, for the tour."

"Of course." Mercifully, he took the cue and lead her back to the entrance, his warm expression morphing into a frown as the palm scanner flashed red and beeped. "That's odd. Just…I'll try it again."

Paige felt a small nagging fear deep in her stomach as he repeated the process, to no avail. "Does it malfunction often?"

The look on his face turned her fear into dread. "Never." David pulled his phone out of his pocket, shaking his head. "No signal. You?"

She already had it out. Nothing. Ralph had enhanced her signal strength tenfold one day while he was bored, so if she wasn't getting any bars, then one possibility emerged as the most likely scenario. "Mr. Jourdan, I think our phones are being jammed."

He didn't correct her this time. "Why would anyone do that? Maybe it's an experiment elsewhere in the building that's interfering?"

"Possibly, but…" Paige frowned, taking her comm out of her bag and switching it on. "Can anyone hear me?"

"Paige. Thank god," came the staticky reply from Sylvester. Now she understood why Walter had been so insistent on using less common frequencies for the devices. "We've been trying to get a hold of you. Where are you?"

"Mr. Jourdan was giving me a tour of their art collection. I'm in a secure room but the systems are malfunctioning. Why were you trying to get a hold of me? Is something wrong?"

"I don't know. We got an alert that MassTech was being evacuated. Something about a fire alarm. When we couldn't call you or get you on comms, we got worried."

Suddenly, Paige was regretting letting them sit this meeting out and stay in the office.  _There's nothing they can do to help this deal go through, and they're probably more likely to sabotage it._ That had been her reasoning at the time, anyway.

Now… "I need you to get here ASAP. I don't know if this is an error or a hack. There's a palm scanner but I'm sure you can find someone with access." She lifted her head, looking at David, who was suddenly much paler than he'd been five minutes ago. "Who has access? And we need the code, too."

"Uh…" He shook his head and Paige could tell he was struggling to focus past his panic. "W-Wendell. The CEO. But he's on vacation in Europe. So…the CFO and the CIO. One of them has to be here. And me. That's everyone. And the code is 983672."

Paige relayed the information to her team, reminding herself not to freak out. This was hardly the most dangerous crunch she'd ever found herself in and if she could keep Mr. Jourdan calm, he wouldn't be the worst company in a crisis. "And hurry." She took in a strained breath, confirming her suspicions. "I don't think we're getting enough oxygen in here."

If possible, David went even whiter. "I-It's an automatic response. If there's a fire alarm in the building, the oxygen will deplete in this room as a s-suppression system. Normally I could control it, but nothing's responding."

"How long?" When he didn't answer, Paige grew impatient and snapped, " _How long?_ "

"T-Thirty minutes before we're completely out of air. A-And if someone else is in control…I can't say."

Paige pushed down the ball of dread threatening to rise and adjusted her comm. "Sylvester, I need—."

"We know." She heard several car doors slam at once. "We're on our way, Paige."

* * *

It was getting hot. Paige gathered her hair in her hands, fishing for a tie in her purse to hold it back.

They hadn't bothered with yelling—the room was soundproof, and they need to preserve their remaining oxygen. Fortunately, Happy had managed to contact emergency crews on the scene. The police were searching for the executives with palm scanner access while firefighters were hedging their bets and drilling through the door leading to the tunnel.

They'd already been at work for fifteen minutes, which didn't give her much hope of them getting past both doors in time. But she had to have faith that Centipede would come through.

_Scorpion never fails._

She swallowed. They weren't Scorpion. Perhaps it was selfish that in her own hour of need, she wished they were.

The drilling halted abruptly and the first door swung open, a few seconds passing before a hand banged twice solidly on the door in front of her. She was so relieved she nearly burst into tears, even before the words echoed in her comm. "Paige? Can you hear me?"

She clasped her hand over her mouth, startled by the voice. "Walter?"


	3. Chapter 3

_Paige is in danger._

Walter went cold all over, and then instantly hot as the adrenaline kicked in. There was no time to dissect his emotions regarding that news. He could sort through them when she was safe. "Tell me on the way," he said to Cabe, almost over his shoulder as he ran toward the building.

Paige was on the twentieth floor, leaving Cabe plenty of time to debrief him on the situation as they climbed endless flights of stairs—the elevators were automatically disabled following a fire alarm, and would have taken too long anyway. The firefighters had beaten them there by a few minutes and were already working on the first door according to the instructions Happy had provided.

"Walter," Toby said as two police officers checked their credentials and let them onto the floor. His voice was nearly drowned out by the drilling, and he raised it just loud enough for the genius to hear. "Paige bailed on you. We all did. But she needs our help and—."

"I'm not thinking about that right now," Walter growled, insulted that anyone believed he would be so vengeful as to let Paige suffer—or die—just because she'd broken his heart. Then again, he supposed he shouldn't be surprised. The team had made it quite clear how little they thought of him. "I'll get her out. For Ralph."

Toby nodded, a look on his face that suggested he knew that wasn't the full reason. But if it got the shrink off his back, it was good enough for Walter.

He spun around to face the team. Not his team, anymore. Not even his friends. But hopefully five people who still had an ounce of faith in him. "Does anyone oppose me taking the lead?"

Cabe and Florence acquiesced immediately, as he suspected they would. Sylvester, Happy and Toby exchanged glances before the mechanic nodded. "Where do you want us, boss?"

"Happy, Florence, find a faster way to breach the door. Sylvester, figure out if there's a way to get more air into the vault. Cabe, make sure everyone's been evacuated from the building. Toby and I will figure out who's behind this and try to stop it."

* * *

"Walter?"

He closed his eyes, leaning into the door. The drilling had made communication over comms difficult, and even though he knew the odds of her still being alive and conscious were high, receiving confirmation was another matter. "Paige, don't talk any more than you need to," he warned. Sylvester had managed to slow down the fire suppression system, but that would only give Paige and her client an extra five minutes in the best-case scenario. "Are either of you hurt?"

"No."

Walter exhaled. She sounded tired, but her recognition of him made it unlikely that the lack of air was affecting her mental capabilities yet. "Is there enough oxygen?"

"For now. Running out."

"I know. Just conserve your energy, Paige. We'll be through soon." He stepped back, allowing room for the firefighters. Happy shot him a disapproving look, motioning for him to take out his comms as she removed hers. "I'm not going to tell her."

"The first door was easy. This one doesn't have the same weaknesses for me to exploit," she snapped. "There's no way we'll breach this door before Paige and what's-his-name run out of oxygen."

"Then we'll find another way to slow down the suppression system," Walter bit back as he stormed toward David's office. They'd found the CFO among the evacuees, but his access had been worthless since the palm scanner and code didn't work. And Walter had gotten kicked out of the system within ten seconds each time he tried to override the controls. Whoever was behind the attack wanted the occupants of that room dead before help arrived.

The thought rocketed a wave of nausea through him. He'd already failed Paige once. He refused to do it again.

"Walter, you there?"

The genius cupped his hand around his comm to hear Cabe better. "I'm here."

"People saw the CIO in the building, but we can't find him anywhere out here. Edward Long. He practically designed every automated system in MassTech. He wouldn't even need to hack in, he's already got control. You think that's our guy?"

"That would explain why I can't get in. Where's his office?" he asked as he sprinted into the hallway, looking from side to side.

"It's two floors up. 2206. We passed it last time we visited," Sylvester offered.

Walter ducked his way past a group of firefighters and police officers before racing up the stairs. "Paige, I need you to ask David if Edward Long would have a motive for this."

There was a quiet conversation on the other end before Paige murmured, "Jackson Fillmore."

She was getting weaker. Walter compartmentalized the pit in his stomach as he reached the twenty-second floor and jogged down the hallway.

"Jackson Fillmore was a warehouse employee at Dinetreus Industries," Sylvester explained. "He was fatally injured in a machinery malfunction in 2004, but a medical examiner reported that he had been drinking and taking pills, which absolved the company of any legal accountability. Edward Long was on the board at the time."

"Let me guess," Walter grunted, yanking aggressively at the locked door. He stepped back, leaning in and ramming his shoulder against it. "They fabricated the story to cover up shoddy safety measures?"

"Seems like a safe bet the examiner was bribed," Toby said. "David must be the only person who knows. Killing him wouldn't make sense otherwise."

"But if we can find the CIO, we can force him to override the lockdown and get Paige out," Sylvester said, equal parts optimism and apprehension in his voice. Their suspect being in the building at all was a long shot. But Scorpion thrived on long shots, and right now Walter would do whatever it took to keep Paige alive.

The genius adjusted his angle, driving into the door twice until it gave way. The overwhelming metallic smell of blood hit his nostrils and he swallowed as he took in the gruesome sight.

"Edward Long isn't going to help us," he muttered as he approached the red-stained desk. "He's dead."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a short chapter but I updated quickly and it's Waige-centric so I felt like you guys would forgive me. ;b I believe the next chapter will be the last.

Even after grueling triple shifts at Nemo's or forty-eight-hour missions to some country she'd never heard of, running to avoid bullets or earthquakes or whatever other catastrophe was imminent, Paige had never been so tired.

Or so scared.

Edward Long was dead. She considered sharing that knowledge with David, but there wasn't much of a point. He was nearly asleep and coaxing him to stay awake would only deplete their oxygen faster. At least if they died, it would be peaceful, quiet. That was some consolation.

Her hands were cold. Her feet, too. Paige's vision spotted as she stared up at the Koller painting. She'd always loved art. She would be surrounded by something beautiful. Better than a scummy lake or an ugly concrete nuclear facility, she guessed.

"Long's not pushing me out of the system anymore, but I can't get through his encryption. Give me a five minute head start and then send the cops up here. How much time do they have?"

_Walter._  Paige couldn't understand what he was talking about, but that wasn't unusual. She closed her eyes, allowing his voice to comfort her. She missed his voice so much.

"Not five minutes!" Happy barked over the comm. "We're lucky if they get three. Walt, hurry your ass up!"

Slightly less comforting. But Paige was lucid just long enough to realize that meant she and David probably weren't getting out alive.

And if that was the case, there was something more important than conserving oxygen. She didn't want to die in silence. "Comms out," she murmured, uncertain whether the team would be able to hear or understand her. "Just Walter."

"Paige, don't talk," the genius said sternly. Her voice hadn't given out, then. She could still do this. "I'm almost there. But I need you to make your oxygen last as long as possible."

"No." She drew in a strained breath, her lungs burning. It could've been different. She could have talked to him when she was clear, when she had every word in the English language at her disposal to explain why she'd left him, why his betrayal devastated her. But for now she would have to settle for the basic ones that were immediately within her grasp. "I'm sorry," she started, unsure if the rest of the team was still listening. It didn't really matter now. She had a hunch they already knew. "I need you to hear that."

"Paige,  _stop_." Walter's voice was softer, almost pleading. "You need to conserve air and I need to focus on overriding the lockdown. We don't have time—."

He could listen and hack at the same time. She knew him better than that. "I shouldn't have left," she continued, ignoring his protests. Paige swallowed, tipping her head to the side as her eyes began to sting. "I don't care if there was someone else. I should have fought for you."

"Paige, I'm begging you. We can talk about it after you get out, but please don't do this right now."

"I might only have right now." Paige hoped that wasn't true. She was nowhere near ready for the end. But if this was it, she had absolutely nothing to lose by saying the one thing that had never stopped being true. "I love you. Since the first time I saw you with Ralph. Please don't hate me."

He was saying her name. Maybe something else that she couldn't quite make out. And then his voice got smaller and smaller, until she couldn't hear it anymore.

* * *

After the fifth time of shouting Paige's name to no answer, Walter acknowledged that he was wasting effort and refocused his attention on gaining control of Edward Long's computer. Nothing she'd said would mean anything if he couldn't save her.

It was another fifty-seven seconds until he found what he was looking for, his hands shaking almost the second he removed them from the keys. "We got the door, Walt!" Happy yelled over the comms, the words barely out of her mouth before the genius was sprinting back down two flights of stairs to reach David's office. To reach her.

He wasn't sure how many people he'd shoved out of the way, but suddenly he was dropping to his knees next to Toby as paramedics lifted Paige's slack body onto a stretcher. Her skin was so pale and he wanted to reach out to her, but he felt paralyzed. "She's okay," the shrink assured him, placing a hand on his chest to keep him back. "They both are. They're unconscious, but alive. Thanks to you."

"What about lasting damage? Do you think—."

Toby shook his head. "There may be some short-term effects, but I doubt we'll see anything long-term. Paige is strong, Walt. This won't keep her down."

He swallowed, watching in frozen frustration as the paramedics lifted Paige and carried her out of the room, discussing her condition over their radios. "I told her not to talk," Walter said, curling his fingers into his palms. "She knew wasting oxygen was dangerous. Why wouldn't she listen to me?"

"Last words are important. You know that better than most." Toby blew out a deep breath. "Let's just be glad they weren't."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

"Alright. Thanks." Cabe hung up the phone, dropping it back into his pocket. "Preliminary findings are that Edward Long committed suicide. Apparently he was listening in to the radio chatter and realized his plan was going to fail. No one would have even known that Paige and Mr. Jourdan were missing during the evacuation if Paige hadn't had her comm in, and by the time anyone realized it, Long could've made it look like an accident."

Walter shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. He disliked the idea that saving Paige and her client meant another person had to die, but if he'd had to choose who to rescue…

"All this for a coverup?" Toby shrugged. "I thought that stuff happened all the time."

"My friend said Long has been on the SEC's radar for a while. David Jourdan exposing him over Jackson Fillmore's death probably would have just been the tip of the iceberg."

"Good riddance," Happy muttered, crossing her legs in the seat and looking up toward the ceiling. "God, Paige sure knows how to pick 'em."

Walter assumed she was referring to jobs, though not absolutely confident in his conclusion.

"Yeah, well, I don't think we'll be bidding on MassTech contracts anymore," Toby said, slumping in his chair. He was a quiet for a second before abruptly adding, "It could've ended differently, you know."

Of course they knew. Walter did, at least. He couldn't even entertain the possibility without breaking into a cold sweat. "I don't see the point in bringing that up."

"I'm working up to a moment of brilliance here, 197." The shrink glanced at his wife, who nodded. Sometimes Walter envied how they seemed to read each other's minds. If he'd had that power, perhaps he would have found better success in his relationships. "We all played a part in saving Paige. Without any of those pieces, she might not have…" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "Come on, you guys need me to spell it out?"

"I think what he's trying to say is that Paige survived because we all managed to work together," Cabe interjected, resting his elbows on his legs as he leaned forward. "And she's not going to be the only person whose life is in danger. No one else should die because we were a shell of Scorpion."

Walter stared at the floor, painfully aware of everyone's eyes turning to him. Of course he wanted his team back. That was never in question. He hadn't been the one to tear them apart in the first place, at least not intentionally. "I'm not sure what you would like me to say."

"How about 'I'm sorry I had my head up my ass and refused to listen to two of my best friends who only want me to be happy?'" the mechanic suggested.

Walter sighed, pushing aside his initial defensive reaction. His pride had contributed in a large way to this mess, and it wouldn't help to revert back to it. "Fine. I am. Sorry. It's apparent now that I should have trusted your advice."

"Thank you." Toby said, sliding his arm around Happy's shoulders. "We suck too, though. We walked out in the heat of the moment and it just…kinda snowballed after that." They shared another look. "You've, uh…you've done a lot for us, Walt. Hell, you brought us together. We haven't forgotten that."

The genius nodded. "I, um…I m-miss you guys."

"Same here," Happy said, a small grin on her face. "And I'll let you in on a little secret. Sly's not even mad at you anymore."

Walter's eyes flew to Sylvester, who looked sheepish. "I'm not good at holding grudges," he admitted, shrugging. "Y-You're my brother. I counted on you to protect me from everything, but some things I have to face on my own. And it was hard to stay mad, knowing that…t-that you were hurting even more than I was. I don't know what I would do if the team walked out on me."

Florence gave Sly a soft smile, patting his arm. He smiled back, and even though Walter couldn't read their unspoken conversation, he had a hunch it had been preceded by a spoken one at some point. "I'm sorry," Walter said, the apology rolling off his tongue much more easily now. "I should have taken your feelings more seriously. Megan hated it when we fought."

Even though some of that fighting had been over a difference of opinion in Megan's care, Walter was secretly glad that someone else had loved her as much as he had. That someone else remembered her as vividly and missed her as intensely. She deserved that. "Yeah," Sly agreed. "She did."

"Alright," Cabe said, looking more at peace than Walter had seen him in a long time. Walter would be lying if he said he didn't feel some of that same lightness, even if there was still a great deal to discuss and resolve. "Then I guess we're just missing one person."

* * *

"You left."

When he'd opened the door, Walter had expected almost anyone else. He would have been less surprised to see his parents outside the garage, fresh off a thirteen-hour flight from Ireland, than he was to see Paige Dineen standing there with her arms crossed. "You shouldn't be here," he said bluntly, cringing at his unintentional rudeness. His communication skills had certainly suffered in her absence. "I m-mean you should be resting. You were only discharged yesterday."

She stepped around him, seeming to ignore his unceremonious greeting, and walked into the garage. Walter shut the door behind her, waiting until she came to a halting stop a few feet away. "Toby told me you were at the hospital. And that you just ran out as soon as the doctor said I was awake."

Walter swallowed, unable to tell from her expression which part she was angry about, if any.  _Ran out_  was slightly hyperbolic. Despite making amends with the team, the prospect of facing Paige had been too overwhelming. Knowing that her last words would be forever etched into his mind and she wouldn't even remember them was too painful. Once he was certain that she would recover fully and the team was there to take adequate care of her, he'd excused himself. Perhaps it was childish. But she did already view him as a permanently emotionally-stunted teenager, so he wasn't quite sure what difference it made. "I thought it would be for the best."

"Because of what I said in the vault?"

He stiffened. His eidetic memory had failed him when he was deprived of oxygen…it was logical to assume that hers would as well. But then again, Paige had never done anything but surprise him.

"It's forgotten," Walter said quietly, looking away. Ever since she'd walked out, staring at her directly was almost painful. "We both know I-I've said plenty of stupid things when I was hypoxic or n-near death."

Paige took a tentative step forward. "But you always meant them."

_It doesn't matter. They never changed anything between us._ But that hadn't been her question. "Yes. I meant them."

"So did I." Walter shut his eyes, briefly, struggling to bring every atom in his body under control. He wanted her confession to be true more than anything. But she'd already given him hope and yanked it away once. Refusing to hope anything at all seemed less painful than watching it crumble again. "Can we just talk, please?"

He could recall saying something similar the night she found out about the lecture. Paige had been less than amenable to the suggestion then, but he had promised—albeit in a desperate attempt to get her to stop burning through her remaining oxygen—that they could discuss it when she was safe. "Do you want to sit down?"

She nodded, glancing around the garage—he'd temporarily reorganized, placing the empty desks and chairs in storage to make space for a personal project—and opting to take a spot on the couch. Walter sat on the other end, needing sufficient space to keep his head clear.

"I remember everything," Paige started, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I even asked Happy if…if I had hallucinated it. But you heard everything, didn't you?" He nodded, deciding to stick to the truth. He should never have strayed from  _only stating facts_ in the first place. "I was sitting there thinking…I'm going to die in this room with someone I barely know and Walter is out there trying so hard to help me when I've taken everything from him. Who else would do that?"

Her bottom lip trembled, and she pinned it between her teeth to keep it steady. "I am so sorry. I meant that. I assumed the worst because the worst always seems to happen, but I can't blame you for the bad experiences in my past." Paige took a deep breath, moving closer to Walter on the couch, and he didn't move as she gently placed her hand over his. He wasn't even sure he was breathing. "I still hate that you lied to me about Florence, but Cabe insists that nothing has happened between you and I believe him. I can't…y-you know I can't fill that role exactly. But I can try harder to be that person for you."

"W-What if I can't?" Even though he'd missed her touch more than he could describe, Walter slipped away from her and sprung off the couch, suddenly feeling too jittery to sit. "I tried to check all the boxes and I failed. I can't change the way I think, Paige. I can try to be better, but that still may not be enough for you and I don't…I can't be back here in six months."

Paige looked surprised for a second, then recovered and wet her lips with her tongue. "You do check all the boxes, Walter. You do for me," she said softly, linking her fingers together in her lap. "You're kind. Brave. Smart. You love my son and you love me. Or at least you did." She shook her head, laughing humorlessly. "I never thought I would meet anyone like that. Maybe I started to take that for granted, but Walter, I didn't take it lightly when I said you were the love of my life."

"But you still…"

"I know. I never get to be the one to leave. I thought it would be easier if I was. But all I do is think about you and what you're doing and if you're…if you're with someone else and honestly it's just driving me crazy." She dropped her head into her hands, running her fingers through her hair. "Can we just start over? Please?"

_Yes. Whatever you want, I'll do it. I'm going crazy too._

"I d-don't know," he admitted, dropping his head. Of course he wanted her. But only if she was going to stay. "I held back from acting on my feelings because I knew the failure of our romantic relationship would mean that I lost you in every part of my life. And you swore that wouldn't happen but it did. Exactly the way I imagined and it was…excruciating." Walter exhaled, amazed that the man with no feelings could have so many of them for one person. He felt elated and confused and terrified all at once and it was exhausting. "I know people haven't stuck around for you, but they haven't for me either. And if we both have one foot out the door because we think the other person does, then there's no point. We'll just keep doing this."

Paige was silent for a long moment, and then she stood up. "Serious commitment? Like, couple's counseling, planning for the future, leaving is the nuclear option?" Walter nodded, and she closed the distance between them, looking up at him. "Okay. I'm in if you are."

Trusting people wasn't easy. People made mistakes and shattered that trust all the time. But if he could forgive everyone else who had ever broken his trust, he could forgive Paige right now and have faith that this time would be different.

And when she pressed against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him hard, he really felt like it would be.


End file.
